


Subject

by BlueEcoBomb



Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Dark Warrior Program, Death, Experimentation, Gen, Rated teen just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEcoBomb/pseuds/BlueEcoBomb
Summary: What happened to a subject before Jak?





	Subject

**Author's Note:**

> Salutations! It's me again. Apologies for not posting in a while, brain box has been a bit ehhh-  
> But nonetheless, here's a poem I wrote. It once again was originally for Jaktober, but I ran out of time. The concept I did have though I liked enough to post. Hope you enjoy! :) I accept all comments, both compliments and critique.

Silver sleek boots cross the floor,

Our small battalion’s directions split into pieces,

Ten turns to four.

The smirk of the superior was a precursor for what awaited in that room.

Orders come, and they go.

What happens inside, I wish I had never gotten to know.

 

More come by in minutes, eleven, maybe ten.

Wait elsewhere, but with the prisoner, the failure.

If they come, then it will all be over for the city,

Nothing left, won’t that be a pity,

We step in.

What was lying there, what once was a man, I wish I had never seen.

 

In spite of the silence, we wanted to scream,

A sight only found in nightmares is now our reality,

Justified at the idea of defending a city,

To be stronger than the walls.

Do they not see how three have already died?

How only two remain?

One barely alive.

The other silent, sorrowful, resistant.

Does mercy exist in this supposed haven?

 

His wrists are now sticks. We had blocked out the screams,

And barricaded our ears,

So this is the price we must pay.

Everything has withered, skin imploding in on itself and nearing eternal thaw. His eyes are empty, hope exists no longer.

Oh god, the begging. The pleading. The desperation.

‘Make it end, make it end…’

The darkness runs around his veins. It is ubiquitous, unwanted, undeserved.

The protector of this once barren land founded by Mar is trying to survive on others’ suffering.

What sort of excuse for guards are we?

 

I should take his request.

Our armour is no different than the result.

The begging, the screams.

The subject,

Begging for mercy.

My friend,

Begging to not take the risk for my life’s sake.

The screams of agony from the inner blood as it shrieks in agony,

Now turned violet by the darkness. An existence where every day is torture.

The screams of desperation, from a friend I have always known.

He thinks clearly.

But my mind is like a dragonfly, having shed its thoughts.

The world turns to grey.

Suffering and sorrow are all I can see, everything else turned to night.

The shot of my gun is the only light,

The only sound and the only mercy brought about by this capture.

 

My foolishness is clear.

But I didn’t remember.

The commander will have my head.

Shot dead. Through the chest.

Beaten. Until my skull cries out before quietly giving up.

Mistake or mercy, it matters no more.

The subject is dead.

My friend closes his eyes,

Which for just a moment,

Seemed to have found peace.

As my legs finally give in and my world shatters before my truth appears and my lies fade away.

My beliefs cease to be,

My body lands on the ground, my gun in my hand.

The gun that killed a man.

I wonder if the blood is coloured differently than our crimson armour.


End file.
